


You can stop at any time

by Aipilosse



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cock Rings, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Some Plot, listen this was going to be pwp but then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aipilosse/pseuds/Aipilosse
Summary: Annatar really only has himself to blame. That just makes things worse.Written for Tolkien Secret Santa Advent Calendar Day 3: Orgasm Denial
Relationships: Annatar/Celebrimbor | Telperinquar
Comments: 24
Kudos: 78
Collections: Tolkien Secret Santa 2020 ADVENT CALENDAR





	You can stop at any time

Hot kisses trailed down his neck, and Annatar had to suppress an involuntary shiver as the last one ended in a nip of teeth. He threaded his fingers through Celebrimbor’s hair and wrapped his arm around him, intent on pushing him down on the couch they were sitting on. 

Celebrimbor seemed to have other ideas; he lifted his head from Annatar’s neck and asked in a conversational tone, “Do you really not feel the full impact of the senses? I could swear you seem to have as much an understanding of the carnal as I do. Like the wine we had this evening; you seem to enjoy it just as much as I did and notice details about scents and flavors that go completely over my head.”

“It’s not that I do not experience the senses in detail—after all I created this body to be mechanically perfect; It is instead a matter of craft and choice versus inborn experience. I am not bound to the flesh as you are, and therefore my reactions to stimuli are more removed.” Annatar explained this all to Celebrimbor in a polite and even tone, but his mind seethed with impatience. They had talked about this over dinner and there wasn’t anything more to say on the matter. He could enjoy fine wine, even though part of him knew it was just a play of chemicals over the tongue, and he could enjoy Celebrimbor, even as he recognized that the physical sensations of being with him were an unnecessary animal drive, a consequence of trying to create a body that the Children would accept and interact with easily.

He lightly traced his thumb over the tip of Celebrimbor’s ear and gazed at him with eyes full of promises. To his annoyance, instead of being overcome with lust, Celebrimbor continued staring at him with only inquisitiveness, silver eyes wide.

“So this is just an exercise in curiosity for you?” As he spoke, Celebrimbor dragged his fingers up Annatar’s spine in a way that left a tingling sensation as they moved. “Something that you do because you know a physical relationship is something I desire?”

“Yes, exactly.” Annatar shifted again, looking for a way to get Celebrimbor lying down. Last time they had had sex, he had pinned both of Celebrimbor’s wrists; that seemed like an excellent way to stop his maddening hands.

Celebrimbor hummed thoughtfully, and before Annatar had an opportunity to react, twisted so that he was straddling his lap, elbows on Annatar’s shoulders.

“A lord of gifts indeed that you deign to spend time with me like this,” Celebrimbor said, before finally leaning in to kiss him. Annatar lifted his hips to meet Celebrimbor’s and for a time allowed the friction to eclipse all thought.

He found himself with his robes around his waist, undergarments untied, as Celebrimbor grasped them together in his hand. Celebrimbor was still wearing too many layers, and Annatar wondered how he’d managed the reversal of their usual positions; he normally had Celebrimbor undressed as quickly as possible and avoided removing his own clothes, no matter how nice the feeling of skin against skin was.

He loosened the laces on Celebrimbor’s robe, exposing smooth skin for his mouth. 

“But here I am doing all the work.” Celebrimbor slowed the motion of his hand, and leaned back to look at Annatar. He still had an expression of pure innocence on his face, although Annatar thought he saw a wicked glint in his eye. “If physical pleasure truly has no hold over you, maybe we can just focus on me tonight?”

Annatar had met balrogs who were less evil than Celebrimbor. He made himself smile. “What, does your hand tire?”

“No, I am just a lustful creature of flesh and wish to be your whole focus this evening.” Celebrimbor was definitely smirking now. 

“Fine.” Annatar knew his tone was not as light as he had been aiming for. He reached for the oil they had been using and began stroking Celebrimbor, ignoring himself. If he was rougher and faster than their previous pace, it seemed to have no effect on Celebrimbor’s pleasure. 

Celebrimbor moaned into his neck, and kissed him again. When the kiss broke, Annatar whispered into his ear, “In fact, we could be like this always, only focused on your pleasure, your body; I would not mind.” He felt a moment of doubt after the words left his mouth but then shook it away. Celebrimbor was as generous and eager to please in bed as he was in life—he would hate a relationship where he could not reciprocate more than Annatar would. Besides, he hadn’t been lying earlier; Annatar was well practiced in ignoring the bonds of a body, easily changing his form and discarding old ones when they no longer suited his purpose. He had no doubt Celebrimbor would be begging to touch him before long.

“I don’t believe you.” It shouldn’t have been possible to sound as amused as Celebrimbor did while breathing heavily.

“It’s not a problem.” Annatar twisted his wrist in a way that caused a mirroring jerk from Celebrimbor’s hips.

“Prove it.” At least now his voice sounded more strained.

“I will.” Annatar sped up his rhythm until finally Celebrimbor came with a soft cry. Annatar continued to stroke him slowly until he batted his hand away. Annatar cleaned them up with Celebrimbor’s robes—one advantage at least of having Celebrimbor more dressed than him. 

Celebrimbor lay down on the couch in the position Annatar had been trying to get him to assume from the beginning. 

“Are you really going to abstain?” he asked.

Annatar raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, of course, if you insist on making this one of your little contests.”

Celebrimbor didn’t respond to that. “No touching yourself.” 

Annatar scoffed. “As if I need to pleasure myself.”

“Of course not,” Celebrimbor said with a small smile, and closed his eyes, leaving his legs draped over Annatar’s lap.

Annatar sat for a while, staring at the sleeping elf, before finally pulling on his clothes and leaving.

~

Several days later, twisting his fingers inside Celebrimbor, Annatar wondered why he had ever doubted himself.

Everything was arranged more to his liking. He had only shed his outer robe, and a few rings. Celebrimbor was completely naked and lying on his workshop table, one leg draped over Annatar’s shoulder and the other spilling off the table. 

They had just completed their work and Celebrimbor was still vibrating with residual power and leftover mental energy. When Annatar had deliberately set down his tools and grabbed his hand instead, Celebrimbor had easily turned from craft to love, letting himself be picked up and set on the table, not even bothering to check if the door was closed.

Annatar finally added a third finger, watching every small expression in Celebrimbor’s face and savoring every twitch of his body. 

Sometimes he was overwhelmed with the need to be near Celebrimbor. If he could, he would open him up and crawl into his chest and then knit him back together so they were truly bound as one, a split soul in two bodies finally reunited. This was close enough though, feeling him from the inside, as his muscles seemed to draw Annatar’s fingers into his body. Here he could press on Celebrimbor’s inner walls, feeling him loosen and slowly lose control under his hands. 

Despite the lack of attention, Celebrimbor’s cock was hard. Annatar slapped his hand away as he reached for himself. 

“You’ll come from my fingers in you or not at all.” Celebrimbor said nothing, but closed his eyes, and pursed his lips as he dug his elbows into the table for more leverage.

Annatar leaned over Celebrimbor, resting his weight on one hand, while the other one moved slowly in and out. Celebrimbor’s eyes opened, and he held his gaze, dark pupils within bright eyes, pulling Annatar down, deep inside him, physical barriers between them dissolving. 

Annatar changed the angle of hand, causing Celebrimbor to tilt his head back and push his heel into Annatar’s back as he came untouched.

Annatar wondered why his own heart was racing; he was doing nothing that required increased oxygen to his cells. There was no reason to feel like a hunted animal, poised, ready to run at the slightest movement.

Celebrimbor curled up on his side on the desk. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow. Can you get me a cloth?”

“Of course,” Annatar said, voice perfectly steady as he went to get a cloth.

That night, back in his room, determined to send out several long overdue missives, he found himself unable to focus as the hours crept by. He tried thinking of dull topics, like the letter he was writing or the uninspired scrolls someone had left in an attempt to win him over. When that didn’t work, he ran through unpleasant memories, even opening up the gate in his mind he had firmly shut to the many years before he was Annatar — messy viscera, hollow victories, and advice unheeded. 

His restlessness did not abate and his thoughts served only to drive him into a darker mood. He finally abandoned the letter half written and went to the forge, beginning work on a helm that was not fitted to any particular head, and several years out of style. The movements of making something finally soothed his restless mind and allowed him to distract himself until most of Ost-in-Edhil woke.

~

“I made you something.” Celebrimbor pulled out a cloth bag; metal clinked within. Annatar had come to his rooms after an unusual day spent wholly apart. He had been examining artifacts brought by some visiting dwarves and Celebrimbor had attended a whole day of council meetings for once. As soon as Annatar had stepped into the study that evening, Celebrimbor had voiced a mild oath and dragged him into the bedroom.

Annatar took the bag from him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”

“Can’t I give my dearest friend a gift for no reason? Besides, you’ll see there’s some selfish motivation.”

Annatar drew out two gold rings from the bag. “More rings, Brim? I thought we agreed we were done with trinkets — the next rings we made would serve a higher goal.” His tone was teasing even as his heart sank; these rings were clearly not meant for fingers.

“These have no magic in them whatsoever; they serve a different purpose.” Annatar didn’t believe him at first. One of his favorite things about Celebrimbor was the way he imbued magic into almost everything he made, sometimes without thinking about it; his strong will and skilled hands calling down power through craft as naturally as others breathed. 

Holding the rings in his palm though, he could tell that they truly weren’t magical, only simple bands of gold alloy. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Celebrimbor said as he resumed divesting them both of their clothing. 

“Do you think I need some aid to do so?” Annatar pushed Celebrimbor’s robes off his shoulders, letting the fine fabric crumple on the ground.

“Of course not; I have total faith in your stamina. But they will look so beautiful.” Annatar managed to push the final layer of cloth off of Celebrimbor. He stepped out from the linen underwear on the floor and draped his arms over Annatar’s shoulders. “Wear them for me?”

This was not how it was supposed to go. When he had arrived in Ost-in-Edhil, wearing the most alluring form he could devise, he had anticipated a challenge. Morgoth had never been able to draw elves to himself, even those who held no adoration for the Valar in the West. But instead of years of honeyed words and slowly seducing the Masters of Eregion, he had found himself promptly welcomed, given a space to dwell, and soon thereafter invited to a series of meetings with Celebrimbor who spread out his own knowledge and discoveries for him and began asking an endless stream of questions that hadn’t stopped until this day.

At least he was certain that it had been his idea to begin their physical relationship, but he was becoming concerned that it had been less him smoldering irresistibly, drawing Celebrimbor to him like iron to a lodestone, and more him throwing himself at Celebrimbor.  He  _ was  _ confident that Celebrimbor was equally interested. As he met Celebrimbor’s playful, questioning gaze, he saw true affection and desire. 

“Fine,” he responded, handing the cock rings back to Celebrimbor. “But you need to put them on me.”

Celebrimbor answered with a deep kiss as he pulled off the rest of Annatar’s clothes. He then carefully slipped the ring over his balls and cock. The second ring unfastened and went over the head, the small bead where it attached fitting against the most sensitive part. 

To Annatar’s horror, Celebrimbor sank down on his knees and took him in his mouth. Between the tug of the weight of the ring’s cool metal, and Celebrimbor’s hot mouth, tongue pressing against the metal ball, rolling it against the underside of his cock, Annatar felt himself approaching the edge faster than he thought possible. He grabbed Celebrimbor’s hair and pulled him off. 

“I may not require sexual satisfaction, but I built this body to have all the sensations you do.” He tried to sound dispassionate, but he could tell from the amused smile on Celebrimbor’s face he did not fully succeed.

“Oh, of course. I just thought you might want some help getting started.” He stood up. “How do you want me?”

The two contradictory thoughts  _ fully clothed and three strides away from me  _ and  _ any way, all the time _ ran through his mind. 

“Get on your knees,” he said. 

Sinking into Celebrimbor’s body, he tried to take a step back from the sensations like he’d always managed to do before. He had experienced all manner of horrible physical feelings before in previous forms; simply not orgasming should be quite simple. He began to move, slowly at first, but soon increasing the intensity and angle, hoping to bring Celebrimbor off quickly. 

As Celebrimbor began stroking himself, he didn’t even consider grabbing his hand or trying to restrain him as he normally would. Instead, Annatar draped himself over him, resting his weight on one arm and pulling Celebrimbor’s head back by the hair to bring his neck to his mouth. Celebrimbor moaned in response, pushing his hips back against Annatar’s. He felt himself approaching the edge himself, muscles tensing and pleasure building in the pit of his stomach. He bit his lip, trying to judge how close Celebrimbor was. His toes were curling, and his body was tensing around Annatar. Not close enough. Before Annatar came, he released Celebrimbor’s hair and tugged hard on his own balls, the sickening wrench of pain pulling him back from the edge.

A minute later Celebrimbor began to clench around him, his arms collapsing as he came. Annatar pulled out as soon as he could without seeming too desperate. He lay down next to Celebrimbor, one arm loosely around him, his cock still rock hard and nestled against his ass.

Celebrimbor wiggled his hips against him. “That was very good. Are you sure…”

“Stop that,” Annatar bit out and rolled onto his back, trying to will his arousal down, fighting against the ring trapping the blood in his cock. 

“You can stop you know.” Celebrimbor had rolled over on his side, and was looking at him seriously, head resting on his hand.

“I know,” Annatar said. He tried to smile at Celebrimbor. “I’m having fun.”

Celebrimbor lifted his eyebrows. “If you insist.” He lowered his head to Annatar’s chest, and stretched an arm across. “Just know you can stop at any time. You’ve quite proven... What were you trying to prove? your will power?”

Annatar didn’t respond. The problem was that he hadn’t proved his ability to resist Celebrimbor to himself yet. That was becoming far too difficult.

~

As the weeks went by, Annatar found himself avoiding time alone with Celebrimbor. He hated that it had come to this, but every time he saw Celebrimbor, a low buzz of arousal began that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

He regularly wore the cock rings though, the weight a comforting reminder of Celebrimbor’s affection, a way to be near him without actually turning his thoughts to a guarantee of frustrated desire.

He found himself walking around Ost-in-Edhil frequently, noticing the rhythms of the city, the new buildings, and the crowds of elves, men, and dwarves all busy with their own concerns. Then he realized that if he had to describe how he felt about Ost-in-Edhil as anything, it would be as home, which was even more dangerous than his damnable attachment to Celebrimbor, and he would he hurry back to the Gwaith-i-Mírdain guild grounds where his rooms were located.

In an attempt to distract himself, Annatar threw himself into an experiment one of the Mírdain was running trying to develop drought resistant plants. It was actually something he had a great deal of expertise in, and the subject was not uninteresting to him. It took several days before he realized that the elf he was working with was trying to subtly get him to stop working.

“Yes, I completely agree that the current greenhouse is too small, but we’d need approval to move elsewhere. Someone on the city council would have to sign on. Somebody like Lord Celebrimbor, perhaps?” The elf’s exhausted eyes met his as he hopefully held out a sheet of paper to him. 

He almost snapped at him, but stopped himself. It would not do for anyone to note any difference of behavior between himself and Celebrimbor. Their romantic relationship wasn’t public, but it was well known they were very close. He didn’t want to open a space for the people who were always hovering around the edges, waiting for an opportunity to drive a wedge between them and turn Celebrimbor towards their own intentions.

“I’ll ask him,” he said coolly, taking the paper, and ignoring the elf’s sagging relief as he left the greenhouse for the first time in days.

He didn’t bother knocking as he entered Celebrimbor’s office. Celebrimbor and his secretary looked up in surprise.

“Annatar, I haven’t seen you in several days.” Celebrimbor looked at him closely. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything is wonderful. In fact my experimental plants are growing so well that we need to request additional greenhouse space.” 

Celebrimbor took the piece of paper from him with a frown. “I didn’t know you were interested in horticulture.”

“There is much you don’t know about me,” The secretary looked like he wanted to hide under his desk, and even Celebrimbor looked taken aback. Annatar tried to tamp down the aura of dark menace.

“Well, I’ll take a look at the proposal when I get a chance.” Celebrimbor set the paper on top of a precarious stack of other work.

“When you get a chance?” Annatar couldn’t keep the snarl from his voice. “How can you keep track of anything in this trash heap?” He gestured at the shelves, which he knew from experience were grouped by whatever Celebrimbor was interested in at the time, and appeared completely random to anyone who had the unenviable job of trying to find something in them.

“And your desk, how do you get anything done with that maelstrom of chaos staring at you?” The secretary was now actually crouching behind his chair.

Celebrimbor now just looked annoyed. “Fine, I’ll review your request right now if it’s so important.” He grabbed the paper back and began to read it. “The proposal is asking for the east side lot to be changed to greenhouse space, but won’t you require a west facing plot for the experiment?” He looked up at Annatar.

For some reason Celebrimbor taking the proposal seriously, which Annatar hadn’t even read, was the last straw. “I’m sure I don’t know. I don’t care at all about this rudimentary experiment. Lúnion only took down half my notes on turgidity, so really the whole endeavor is pointless.” He spun on his heel and strode out of the office. He almost tripped over the dwarf about to knock on the office door.

“Oh, hello Annatar,” Lofrik said. “It’s been awhile.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Annatar said as he pushed past Lofrik, a regular conversational partner and dinner guest. He didn’t turn around to see the significant look Lofrik gave Celebrimbor, nor the helpless shrug Celebrimbor responded with.

~

He didn’t even have an excuse when he showed up in Celebrimbor’s room that night. It was past midnight, but Celebrimbor was still up, sitting by the fire with a board over his lap, sketching something.

Despite their earlier encounter, Celebrimbor still smiled when he saw him. “I’m glad you're here, I was just revisiting our plans for the next set of rings—”

Annatar, walked up to him and took the board away. He looked into Celebrimbor’s eyes and said, “I need you.”

“I’m right here” Celebrimbor tilted his head up at him. Annatar pulled him up and into a kiss. He began to drag Celebrimbor into the bedroom, trying not to unleash his full strength. 

He could barely think through the fog of lust that he’d been suppressing for weeks, only knowing that he needed to be as close to Celebrimbor as possible. As he tried to undress him, buttons popped off and laces tore.

After his initial surprise, Celebrimbor was equally enthusiastic, clutching at Annatar’s shoulders and hips, and sliding his hands over newly bare skin. 

Annatar fell back on to the bed and pulled Celebrimbor on top of him. He braced himself on his elbows above Annatar, looking down at him with a small smile, dark hair falling down and blocking everything else from view.

“So we’re no longer pretending you’re unaffected by desire?” Celebrimbor asked.

“Shut up,” Annatar said, and linked his legs behind Celebrimbor, pulling up his hips to rut against Celebrimbor. Annatar was wearing the rings Celebrimbor had made him, which provided welcome pressure as he mindlessly sought friction.

“Wait, wait,” Celebrimbor gasped, fumbling at his bedside table.

Annatar read his intention. “I don’t need anything, just get inside me.” He ran a fingernail over Celebrimbor’s nipple; Celebrimbor shuddered in response.

“No, let me—” Oil finally acquired, Celebrimbor slicked his cock and lined himself up at Annatar’s entrance. 

Annatar reached down, and impatiently guided him in. The burning stretch, after no preparation, was a gratifying distraction from the desire that coursed through his body. He arched his back until Celebrimbor was fully seated inside him, moving too quickly. When Celebrimbor was sheathed in his body, they both paused for a moment, breathing heavily; Annatar couldn't tear his eyes away from Celebrimbor’s face, who was looking at him with wonder and love.

“Move,” Annatar ordered; Celebrimbor could stare once he’d come. Celebrimbor finally began to move, and Annatar groaned at the drag. He planted a foot on the bed to give himself the leverage to meet each thrust, and began stroking his cock in tandem. 

His orgasm began building quickly, but Celebrimbor noticed and seized his hand, trapping it beneath his own.

“You waited this long — you can wait a little while longer.” 

Annatar felt like screaming, but then Celebrimbor shifted and hit a spot deep inside that caused flashing on the edges of his vision, and he cried out for a different reason altogether. He lost himself in the grinding pleasure, every nerve on fire, the gold band around the base of his cock staving off the inevitable for now, and the smaller band under the tip shifting just enough to drive him mad. 

Finally, Celebrimbor reached down to grasp him. In a matter of moments Annatar was coming, shuddering and crying out, burying his face in Celebrimbor’s neck.

He slumped bonelessly as Celebrimbor continued thrusting, increasing his speed as he chased his own orgasm. The movement was becoming almost painful in his sensitive state, but he welcomed the sensation. He dug his nails into Celebrimbor’s back, and finally, he was coming, rhythm lost as he cried out.

As he lay next to him, Annatar finally admitted to himself that he was moving beyond mere attachment to Celebrimbor; this was something else entirely. He was also becoming more bound to his current form. He probably couldn’t shapeshift any more even if he wanted to. His feelings were inconvenient; he felt a knot of fear in his chest at the thought of anything happening to Celebrimbor. He forced himself to relax and not dwell on unknowns. Right now, all was working out well. Besides, if something should ever come between himself and Celebrimbor, it should be a simple thing to obliterate it out of existence. Everything would work out; he always managed to come out on top.


End file.
